


Going to apologize

by Keenir



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Gen, Worldbuilding, pre-sapient, trying to ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 16:32:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2514488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keenir/pseuds/Keenir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm tries to apologize to Hoshi...while also trying to avoid being bitten.</p>
<p>takes place post-Risa.<br/>spoilers: 'Two Days, Two Nights.'</p>
<p>author's notes: this ecology was another thought experiment..."plants on Earth all try to grow tall, hence trees and tree-like plants. could there be a world where plants grow out rather than up?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going to apologize

  
~~~~

The most Earthlike of all the animals he'd seen thus-far on this planet, was a low-slung, burly, slick-skinned anteater. Granted, Malcolm thought to himself as one of the anteaters tapped its chin against one of the platform-weed, anteaters don't have wart-covered tails. The anteater then jabbed its needle-mouth straight through a weak spot. Note to self, keep on the lookout for spots where these weeds aren't as strong. For the most part, however, everything was fine. In the world, at least.

The weeds here were typical of the plant cover across the planet, he'd been informed. While some of the local plants had bowls or curves, or plain flat tops, they never grew more than two feet off the ground. And the tops, used for gathering sunlight like any good plant, were strong enough to support the weight of a human.

In the world, everything was fine. In the heart, there were matters that needed to be tended-to.

You really put your foot in it this time, Malcolm, he thought to himself as he slogged towards the shuttlepod where Hoshi and Travis and Cutler had set down. You work with her week-in and week-out, and you really thought that bit of advice was going to work? There was a hope, a faint and tenuous hope.Last time I ever listen to Grigor about women. Then he recalled that it'd been the first time too; usually, Grigor talked about weapons systems.

More slogging, punctuated only by muffled **_*chunk*_** ing sounds coming from under the weeds. _Burrowers? Rooting around for grubs?_ And once, pulling his left foot back as the weed started to give way under him; it was just a small patch, easy enough to go around. _Its like walking across a salt pan. Only more green than white._

_No trees. Nothing with branches._ Early in the mission here, Phlox'd theorized that plants here grew one layer atop another, rather than only growing at the tips of branches.

After a while, he noticed that a lot of the platform-weeds were indented, scraped, and bored in spots. It was another quarter-mile before he came across the creature responsible: a plump cavy-looking animal, with meaty legs and two trunks: one on its lower lip, one on its upper lip. Both trunks lay flat against the weed as the cavy fed.

Though there were several of them here, Malcolm doubted the gathering could be called a herd of cavy. Picking up one of the cavy by the scruff of its neck, Malcolm nearly dropped it when he saw it swinging its lip-jaws up and down. Not trunks after all, but separate jaws. Each side (right and left) of both lips had a row of chisel-shaped teeth, slicing together. _(Well, that certainly explains how they get their food.)_ And like the hyrax of Earth, these animals had flexible palms, able to shift and become suction cups when the need arises -- and this critter clearly felt it had need, with those palms working overtime, legs flailing every which way.

Malcolm tossed it a meter away, not about to let it grab him, his other hand reaching for his phaser. But it didn't come charging at him, nor did any others. Instead, it just returned to scraping at the platform-weeds.

It wasn't long after that, that he found the other shuttlepod. It'd crushed all the weeds that'd been under it when it'd landed, there was no doubt about that. And there was Travis, sitting in the shade afforded by the shuttlepod, frequently looking skyward from his PADD. "Enjoying yourself, Ensign?"

"Completely, Lieutenant," Travis said. "Just figuring on when the next sun's going to rise." This was a binary star system, but the second sun was far out on the edge of the system, spinning around the central one.

Sparing a brief glance at the one-sun sky, "Think it's going to be noticeable?"

"I'm hoping."

"I didn't know you were an astronomer," trying to make conversation, a part of him thinking he could delay the inevitable...the talk with Hoshi.

"I'm not. Sir."

"You're astrogating, aren't you?"

"I'm a Boomer," his tone suggesting it was self-explanitory.

"I don't follow."

Suspecting why Malcolm was here, but not sure which woman was the Lt.'s goal, "Elizabeth's inside, sir," Travis said, "and Hoshi's still outside...she's on the other side of the shuttlepod."

Malcolm nodded. "Thanks," and proceeded to walk around the shuttlepod, to the side that hadn't been visible during his approach. He turned the corners, and --

And there she was, crouched down, knees on the platform-weeds, and eyes laughing as she watched a small pack of things leapfrog over one another. "What're they doing?" he asked. _Not the worst thing I could've said, true. But of all the inane questions..._

"They're playing," Hoshi said.

_That's signifigant,_ Malcolm knew, but darned if he could recall why. "And that's important, I know," to which she nodded a little. "Mind refreshing my memory as to the Why?" he asked of her.

"Species that play, tend to have larger brains than those that don't play -- and they are more likely to become intelligent."

"I see," and silence fell between them as he finished walking up to her. The playing critters paid no attention to him. _Probably never seen anything my height before._ After a while, a long while it felt like, "Hoshi -"

"Don't," she snapped.

"What -"

"I don't want to hear it."

"I just wanted to say -"

"Its too late for anything you could say, Lieutenant."

"- I'm sorry."

Hoshi made a sound, and Malcolm couldn't believe that such a harsh noise could possibly be a laugh...not from short, smart, sweet, trim and lovely Hoshi. "So?"

"I just wanted to apologize."

Again, that noise. "For what? For your reek as we left Risa?"

"That too." Taking a breath, "For the way I acted, on the way down to Risa -- and earlier that day."

"It's in the past," she told him. "You can't undo it."

"I know." Hanging his head, "It was some advice I'd recieved, something that might impress you."

The noise again, only this time it was in the company of a snerk. "Riight."

"It was a mistake, I know that now. I was just hoping -"

"For what?" she snapped, standing up abruptly, an action which scattered the playing things. She wasn't as tall as him, but she had a perfectly-working glare, which was in full force. "You want another go at it?"

"A second try," he nodded, "yes."

"That was your second try."

He blinked at that bombshell. "It was?"

"Oh yes. You were doing perfectly fine; I even thought about asking you out...but you kept avoiding me, changing the subject. Then we head for Risa, and you act like that."

"I see," wishing there was a rock to hide under, or at least alongside. Fool! he hissed at himself. All those times, all those opportunities, and you missed them! "Well, I hope you at least accept my apology."

She just kept glaring at him, and he could guess what that translated as.

Nodding, he turned around and headed back towards the shuttlepod doorway, where Travis'd been. And where Travis still was, he saw when he came around again.

With a sigh, Hoshi collapsed back to her knees, watching as the playing hunters returned and resumed their game. She'd seen them earlier, working to take down - and apart - something vaguely like an anteater. _Best of luck,_ she wished them. _Here's hoping you manage to avoid the pitfalls we humans keep falling in._ The hunters squeaked and chirped, sounds coming from nostrils set just behind their shoulders. _And may your language keep its beauty._

Her PADD was inside, filled with notes about the sounds made by these pack hunters, and each sound's meaning. _Everything they need for language, they have. They could be a race of professional singers, a chorus that would flit between stars, taking vacations on wilderness worlds._

_But first_ , she recognized, _they would have to grow up. Civilization meant rules, laws; tended to mean religion and forgiveness._

Hoshi sighed, slowly rising, managing to avoid startling the pack again.

_Maybe, when they mature into an intelligent species, there'll be a community out in space waiting for them. A league of sophonts, working and living together in harmony._

_Until then, these little hunters'll just have to make do, one slow step at a time._ She headed for the other side of the shuttlepod.

Standing next to him now, "Apology accepted," she said. Hoshi didn't put her hand in Malcolm's, though her knuckles brushed his.

Neither said anything, though Malcolm opened his mouth - and quickly shut it, for fear of saying the wrong thing.

Together, they watched the second sunrise.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
the end of this story.


End file.
